


Heather Dursley and the Crucial Moment

by Heather Dursley (Keolah)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Dimension Travel, Gen, Harry Potter Next Generation, POV Original Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-02-13
Updated: 2012-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-13 09:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keolah/pseuds/Heather%20Dursley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dudley Dursley's daughter turns out to be a witch. If that weren't bad enough, strange things seem to happen to her on Halloween.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heather Dursley and the Crucial Moment

_October 31, 2015_

The phone rang, and Harry glanced at the caller ID. Dudley? He wondered if something happened. Harry picked up the phone and said, "Hello?"

"Harry," Dudley's voice came over the line. "There's... there's something... We need to talk. In person, preferably."

"Alright, Dudley, I'll be right over."

Harry frowned and put the phone down. His first thought was that it might be a trap. Dark wizards trying to lure him out to catch him offguard. No, he shook the thought out of his head. The war had been over for years. That was just paranoia talking.

"Who was that, Harry?" Ginny asked, poking her head in from the kitchen.

"Dudley," Harry replied. "I'm heading over to his place for a bit."

"Alright," Ginny said. "Don't be late for supper."

Harry Apparated directly over to Dudley's living room. He was glad that Dudley had gotten a new home. Privet Drive held too many bad memories for both of them. Thankfully, the living room was empty but for the two of them. No evil Dark wizards seeking to ambush him.

Dudley jumped a little at Harry's entrance. "Gah. Warn me before you do that, will you?"

"Sorry," Harry said. "You seemed pretty upset, and it sounded urgent. What's the problem?"

"Oh, it's nothing bad," Dudley said. "Well, I don't think so, anyway. I'm sure Dad would disagree. But he's not here, and I don't know what he'll say when he finds out, if he finds out..."

"Dudley," Harry said. "You're babbling. Spit it out. What's going on?"

"Oh, sorry," Dudley said. "It's my daughter, you see. She, well... I think she's... you know... I think she's one of _your_ kind."

"Your daughter is a witch?" Harry said, raising an eyebrow. "What, did she do some accidental magic?"

Dudley nodded. "She just... appeared. In the living room. She, like, teleported or whatever you call it, just like you did a minute ago. Said something about some older boys being mean to her at school, then went up to hide in her room."

"I see," Harry said. "What was her name again? Hazel?"

"Heather," Dudley said. "She's six. You've been managing to address Christmas cards correctly for six years and you still can't remember her name?"

"I have Ginny to remind me," Harry said dryly. "You want me to go talk to her, I take it?"

Dudley nodded again. "I don't know what to say to her. I don't know how to deal with a... with a w-- witch."

"Dudley," Harry said. "If you don't want to have to deal with a magical child, I'll take her in and raise her. I won't think any less of you for it."

Dudley shook his head. "No... I appreciate the offer, but... She's still my daughter, and I love her no matter what. I didn't expect this, but I'll deal with it somehow."

"Alright," Harry said. "I'll just go talk to her, then. Which is her room?"

"Upstairs, last door on the right."

Harry went upstairs and to the door in question, and knocked gently on the door. When there was no answer, he said, "Heather, it's your Uncle Harry. Can I come in?" Technically, he was her first cousin once removed, but 'uncle' was easier.

A muffled sound came from inside that he took to be in the affirmative, and opened the door and stepped inside. There was Heather, a little blonde girl, sitting beside the bed. Her blue eyes were reddened with tears, but she wasn't crying anymore at the moment. She pulled a pair of glasses back onto her face and looked up at him.

Harry went over and sat down cross-legged across from her. "Are you alright, Heather?"

Heather nodded and didn't answer, sniffling a little.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Harry asked.

"Um..." Heather said. "Am I gonna get in trouble?"

"Of course not," Harry said. "You haven't done anything wrong."

"Well... okay," Heather said. "I just got my new glasses. It feels funny wearing them, but I can see a whole lot better. But some boys at school were being mean. They called me four-eyes. Then they saw me reading outside of class, and called me a nerd."

Harry noted the low baby-blue bookshelf that was a prominent feature to the girl's room, full of children's books. "There's nothing wrong with wearing glasses," Harry said, adjusting his own. "And there's certainly nothing wrong with reading. So then what happened?"

"Um..." Heather said. "I didn't like what they were saying. So I yelled back at them. I called them stupid. They got angry. I thought they were going to hurt me. I was scared. I wanted to get away. And then suddenly I was back home."

"I see," Harry said.

"And Dad was surprised, so I ran up here," Heather said. "Why did he call you, Uncle Harry?"

"Well, Heather," Harry said. "There's something I need to talk to you about. You see, the way you 'teleported' like that, as your father called it. It means you can do magic. You're a witch, Heather."

"Magic?" Heather said, eyes widening. "Really?"

"Your father called me in because I'm actually a wizard," Harry said. He pulled out his holly wand and made red sparks fly from the tip of it to demonstrate.

"Wow," Heather said. "That is so..."

"Wicked?" Harry said, grinning.

"Aw, nobody says 'wicked' anymore, Uncle Harry!" Heather said.

"What do they say now?" Harry wondered.

"I don't know," Heather admitted. "I was going to say that it's fascinating."

Harry chuckled in amusement. "You know, you kind of remind me of a friend of mine. Anyway, you feeling better now?"

"I'm fine," Heather said. "So what does it mean to be a witch? When do I get to start learning magic? Do I get to ride a broomstick, too? Are there a lot of witches and wizards in Britain?"

Harry laughed aloud. "One question at a time! Don't worry. I'll tell you everything I can."

* * *

_October 31, 2019_

Heather Dursley, ten years old, did not want to go trick-or-treating. She'd been excited about it at first. She had even been planning to dress up as a witch, as a little joke. But now, it just wasn't going to happen. 

The closer it got to midnight, the more sick she felt. Every Halloween, she'd been sick, but each year it had been worse than the year before. She hadn't been able to go trick-or-treating for the last two years because of it, and had really been hoping that this year would be different. 

But instead, this year was worse than any before. As dusk approached, she went into the loo and puked up her dinner, and then kept at it after there was nothing left to puke up. 

"Are you sick already?" Mum called. "You shouldn't have eaten so many sweets!" 

Heather hadn't eaten many sweets. Nothing nearly so enjoyable. But Mum would never believe that. She crawled over and shut the door, and reached up and locked it, before collapsing back to the tiled floor. Curling up in a little ball on the floor, she felt like dying. 

Dizzy, head spinning, vision blurry, she thought she was hallucinating. Strange images played before her eyes, of people, places, monsters and things she could not identify. Was it magic? What was wrong with her? What was happening to her? 

Her entire body felt cold and numb. She shuddered involuntarily. She couldn't stop shaking. There was nothing left in her stomach, but she still felt like her body wanted to turn itself inside out. 

_A flash of green light leaves a baby dead without a mark._

Hallucinations. She was seeing things. Terrible, nightmarish images. 

_A boy in a graveyard, drained of blood until he died._

This wasn't real. This wasn't happening. 

_A snake-like man in black robes slaughters an entire school full of children._

This couldn't be real. Make the nightmares end... 

"Heather?" said a voice, like from a great distance. "Heather!" 

"What's wrong with her? I've never seen her this bad before. It wasn't just the sweets, was it?" 

"I don't know. I've got a potion that might help, though, if she can get it down. Heather, drink this. Can you drink this?" 

Something was pressed to her lips. A little bit of liquid dribbling into her mouth. She tried to swallow it, even though her mouth still tasted terrible. Some of it ran out of the corner of her mouth, but she managed to get some of it down. 

At least she didn't feel like puking anymore, but it didn't help at all with the hallucinations. If anything, it sharpened her mind and made them all the more clear. Around her father and Uncle Harry, there were images swirling, like in little soap bubbles, each of them showing different things. 

"Uncle Harry..." she said dimly, her tongue feeling thick. 

"Are you feeling better, Heather?" Uncle Harry asked. 

Technically, she was _feeling_ better, so she nods distantly. But why was she seeing things? 

"Thanks for coming on such short notice, Harry," Dad says. "Especially considering it's almost midnight." 

"Don't worry about it," Uncle Harry says. "You know you can call me anytime if you need something, especially where Heather is concerned." 

"Uncle Harry..." she murmured. 

"Is something still wrong, Heather?" Uncle Harry asked. 

"I don't know," Heather said. "Am I supposed to be seeing these things?" 

"Seeing what things?" Uncle Harry wondered. 

The clock struck midnight. There was pressure in her head like it was going to explode. She doubled over in pain, clutching her head and shaking. 

"Heather!" the two adults cried out at once. 

She screamed at the top of her lungs. There was a terrible darkness around her, trying to drag her in. 

" _Dimensio Ancorae!_ " 

It was like a door slammed in her face. She gasped and shuddered. The images vanished. Panting, she rubbed her head. The pain was fading. 

"Thank you... whatever you did," she murmured. 

"What just happened?" Dad wondered. "She looked like part of her body was fading away for a moment there!" 

Uncle Harry nodded. "Accidental magic. Looks like she got caught halfway between here and someplace else. But the spell I cast was able to stop it." 

"Do you think it will happen again?" Dad asked. "She's usually a little sick on Halloween, but we always figured it was just from eating too many sweets. Nothing like _this_ has happened before." 

"It wasn't from sweets," Heather insisted. 

Her two older brothers poke their heads into the doorway. "Is somebody murdering our baby sister in here?" asked Alexander. He was the eldest of the Dursley children, at age sixteen. 

"I'm okay now, thanks to Uncle Harry," Heather assured them. "Did I wake you up?" 

"Nah, we weren't really asleep anyway," said Benjamin. He was fourteen. 

"You boys really should go back to bed now, though," Dad said. "Your uncle and I have things in hand. Mostly your uncle." He smirked. 

Reluctantly, the boys return to their rooms, and Dad helped Heather to her feet. She was still feeling pretty weak and a little woozy. But no more nausea, no more hallucinations, no more headaches. 

"You think you can hold down some food now?" Dad asked. 

Heather nodded. "I'm feeling much better now." 

"I'll stick around for a bit longer to make sure nothing else happens," Uncle Harry said. 

Dad puts some soup on the cooker and throws together some quick sandwiches, including a couple for himself and Uncle Harry. The three of them sat down to eat. Heather was still shaking a little and freaked out from her experience, but she definitely wanted to get something in her stomach now that she wasn't nauseous anymore. 

"Will she be able to better control her magic once she starts at Hogwarts?" Dad asked Uncle Harry. 

"She should," Uncle Harry replied. "That's the whole point of it, after all." 

"Will I get to go to Hogwarts next year?" Heather asked excitedly. "I'm so tired of Muggle school. I hardly feel like I'm learning anything!" 

"Magic school isn't really any different," Uncle Harry said. "You just learn different subjects." 

"How is maths exciting when I could be learning to cast spells?" Heather asked. 

"Wizards often underestimate what Muggles can do," Uncle Harry replied. "And you'll find having a firm grounding in maths will help you with Arithmancy later on." 

"I suppose," Heather said reluctantly. 

"But I don't think it's any less impressive to be able to code a computer program, or build a car, or design a bridge," Harry went on. "And even a wizard could stand to be able to cook a good meal, or raise a child, or balance a budget, or hold the line to defend those you care about against impossible odds..."


End file.
